Still
by korralations
Summary: Makorra drabbles based on "Still" by Matt Nathanson Can be read in chronological or original order for two different stories. T for themes and content.


**Still**

_Song by Matt Nathanson_

_**1. I remember honey lips and words of truth.**_

Mako sneers at her, pushing past. More fangirls. They're all the same. Pretty and annoying. This one is familiar, though. She's probably been here before, he reasons.

"Oh, you're still here?" he asks. He knows he's being rude, but he doesn't care. Bolin's lady habits are keeping his eye off the prize.

He's turned away, but he can feel the animosity boring into his back. Of course.

"Oh, you're still a jerk?"

Bolin whistles and laughs weakly, and Mako ignores them. He can have his fun as long as they win the prize money.

Clothes need folding, training needs to be precise. Mako acknowledges the helpfulness of fans, but that doesn't mean he has to meet them.

"Think you could show me a few moves?" the higher pitched voice asks excitedly.

"Absolutely!"

"Right now? C'mon, Bolin," he complains, tossing down his towel. He's surprised the girl can bend at all. Usually they want Bolin for a different kind of activity.

Mako listens halfheartedly to their conversation.

"I'm a waterbender. And a firebender," the same annoying girl brags, and Mako pauses.

"I am very confused right now," that's hits Mako, and he sighs.

"You're the Avatar, and I'm an idiot." His pride stings at admitting it, but it's true. He's seen her face in the papers, after all.

"Both are true," she says, self-satisfied.

It drives him crazy. The way she's honest. It's refreshing and frustrating all at the same time, and he's not sure how that can be.

_**2. I remember you and me.**_

He's upset for some reason. He isn't talking to her. It'll pass, but still. She can't figure out why. Maybe it was… no. It was a joke. She didn't mean to make a big deal out of taking his scarf. It was a joke; she vehemently tells herself that.

She didn't realize how old it was until the fabric was between her fingers, and she thinks maybe there's a story there.

_**3. You wore me out; you wore me out.**_

Korra ducks as the fire singes her ponytail, sliding under the blast.

"Having fun, are we?" she calls out, bending the water toward the source of the fire. "It's been half an hour!"

Sweat covers her face, but she won't admit defeat. No way. She's going to get the better of him. Fire erupts from all sides around her, and she can barely see Mako through the flames licking away at the air.

Water cools the greedy fire, steam filling the training room.

She sees Mako about to bend again, and she lunges forward, tackling him to the ground. Chest heaving, she lands on him, pinning his arms affectively to the mats.

He's breathing hard too, and she smirks.

"I win," she states confidently.

Before she can stop him, he has her flat against the floor, and the corners of his lips turn up in that frustrating way. "I win," he challenges back.

Korra tries to catch her breath, staring up at his narrowed eyes, the way his eyebrows are furrowed in concentration. She feels the unprompted urge to lean up and-

"What're yeh doin' teh my gym!" a gruff voice complains.

Korra slips out from under Mako, glad for the steam as Toza makes his way through.

_**4. Still can feel your brown skin shine, shine.**_

The steam rolls of of her body, and she cuts her way through, surely in the opposite direction of Toza. Mako follows her footsteps, only slowing his pace once they're through to the changing room.

"I still think I won," she insists, collapsing on the bench with an exaggerated sigh. Mako tosses her a towel, then grabs one for himself, wiping the back of his neck.

He glances over to her, and Mako watches her mouth move in what are surely arrogant proclamations of why she won. She waves the towel around as she talks.

Her brown skin gleams with sweat, collecting on her forehead and sliding down her cheeks. She turns away from him, still talking, and slips off her shirt. Her wrapping are a novelty here - only the native water tribes still use them.

They are quite modest, but he notices how the moisture gleams in the curvature of her spine, how her waist is trim yet still strong. He loves the way the smooth expanse of her back reflects the light, how the color is so rich and- she turns her head to look at him, and he sees her mouth form his name.

"Were you even listening to me?"

"Hm?" he mumbles. _Wow. Mako. 'Hm.' Real winner._

He groans as a chunk of the floor hits him in the groin, and he stumbles back while Korra smirks.

"Pay more attention to you and not me," she quips, and she leaves the room, wrappings and all.

_**5. Dreams of you coming on fast like good dreams do.**_

Mako paces his balcony, arms crossed in the soft glow of the moonlight. He's bathed in light, the subtle niceties of nighttime, yet his mind is occupied.

The way she touched him - no. A dream.

He paces angrily now. She had done such creative things with her - cold showers. Cold showers, that one time he walked in on Toza naked. Showers. Toza. Showers. Toza.

_**6. Come on and drive me wild.**_

If Jinora and Ikki say _one more thing_ when Mako is around…

_**7. And you move like water.**_

Her arms arch over her gracefully, and she turns as the water spills around her, each subtle movement of her wrist directing the steady flow.

Mako watches as if unimpressed, arms crossed, leaning against the wall. He doesn't like rain - or at least he didn't. It quells his energy, makes him want to curl up until it's passed. He prefers fire - straightforward and passionate. No maybes about it.

Korra likes that part of it too, but seeing her in her natural element is irreplaceable. She moves with undeniable grace and fluidity, and Mako thinks for a split second she might make him appreciate the rain more.

_**8. I remember non-stop earthquake[s].**_

The floor of the attic tumbles, and Mako watches the boxes tumble to the ground again. Fists clenched, he composes himself. Bolin and Korra and their damn training. It's 10:30 at night. The least they can do is train in the morning.

Another rumble, and Mako tosses the boxes on the ground, striding down the stairs two at a time.

Bolin and Korra are laughing, the disks and weights in a poor sculpture of Naga. It's funny, he has to admit; with its overlarge ears and the greenish color.

Bolin leans forward with an earthbending move, and a mouth is formed, tongue lolling out, and Korra doubles over in laughter. Mako watches her lean on his little brother for support, and Bolin's arms hold her up as they watch.

Mako can't find it in his heart to make them stop, and he suppresses the twinge of jealousy that surges through him at the sight.

_**9. Still can feel you kiss me.**_

He's surprised. That's obvious, but all she knows is that she's numbingly scared. Scared, an unfamiliar sensation, and all she wants is his assurance.

That's why she kisses him, and it helps. He pauses. He recoils, even, in shock, then he softens. Mako, the hard-ass Mako, kissing her back with the same insistence and drive that he delivers every day. Mako.

_**10. Still can feel you kiss me, love.**_

Mako sees the desperation in her cerulean eyes, the uncertainty so uncharacteristic for her, and the way it's eating away at her. He wants so badly to hug her and reassure her, because everything has to be okay.

Her eyes grow closer, and he doesn't know why until her lips meet his. Surprise trumps all else, and he does nothing.

Korra. It's Korra. Kissing him. He can't help himself, and he is kissing her back blissfully.

He hopes he's portraying his need to make it all better for her through the kiss, and as her mouth opens for his, he likes to think he has succeeded.

_**11. Tangled in hotel sheets.**_

She's barely awake, but she can still feel the wind skim over her bare skin. The window must be open. There's a pressure over her waist, and something tugging on her ankle.

The sheet. That's what's doing the tugging.

Republic City Hotel. Mako's arm thrown carelessly over her from the nonchalance of slumber.

She wonders if she'll ever see him the same way after the way he held her, after what they'd done, and she pushes her face into the pillow to hide her grin.

_**12. Your [brother] in the next room with the [radio] on.**_

"Korra, sh!"

Bolin turns the radio up a bit louder, hoping to drown out the horrible sounds of-

A giggle erupts from Mako's bedroom, and Bolin groans to himself. Shushing from Mako, then silence.

Silence is the worst, because Bolin knows what's going on. Nothing he wants to think about.

Maybe this is payback for all the time he brings in fangirls, Bolin muses as he props his feet up. Even so, listening to his big brother and one of his best friends do… each other, is something he could do without.

Something akin to a belt buckle's chink resounds against the inside of the door, followed by a hushed "just burn them off!"

Bolin kicks his feet off the table. Time for earthbending practice.

He hears Mako chuckle as Bolin leaves the adjacent room, and he smiles a bit. If someone else can make Mako laugh, Bolin doesn't care how it happens.

_**13. I've never been deeper, so far gone.**_

The first time she sees Mako laugh - _really_ laugh - she knows she's in love. It scares her. One moment it was a simple crush, next them just screwing around. Then this.

It scares her too because the last thing she wants to do is hurt him, and she's wholeheartedly frightened she'll mess it up somehow.

Scared, too, perhaps, because he's so hard to read, because he loves so fiercely and she hasn't seen that ferocity when he's with her.

Scared because she knows the Avatar has to go with the flow of things, and Mako will go with Bolin.

Scared because she doesn't want to have to let him go.

_**14. I remember hearts that beat.**_

Her head is on his chest, and he likes to think the only time she's this vulnerable is when she's sleeping. Mako touches a strand of hair that has fallen onto her face and tucks it into her hair clip gently. She stirs in her sleep, nestling closer to his body.

He can feel the strong lines of her body, only softened by her inherent femininity. Mako stills as her feels her steady heartbeat.

It frightens him. He remembers feeling his mother's heart stop, and he can't bear hearing Korra's heartbeat. He wouldn't be able to stand it if Korra's ceased too.

He kisses her forehead. He loves her, and for the first time in a while, he lets himself smile. He loves her, and it's as simple as that


End file.
